Translated Tuesday – Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi

While this may be heresy in the cinematic world, but I find Disney’s “Pinocchio” boring.  Really boring.  Tortuous.  When Idlewild Books recommended Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi to read on our family trip to Italy, I was going to say no.  David described a new translation by Geoffrey Brock and promised me that the book is much better than the movie; I succumbed.  The book is a delight.  I’ve spent the last several days reading it aloud to my daughter, something we haven’t done in almost a year.  The basic story is the same, puppet is a brat and obvious liar, wants to become a real boy, does almost everything wrong, but finally transforms into a human.

Pinocchio

This Pinocchio is far worse than the movie version.  The book starts with a carpenter, Master Cherry, carving a piece of wood that talks and laughs.  As a gesture of “friendship,” Cherry gives the wood to Geppetto to carve into a puppet.   When minutes of carving, Pinocchio treats Geppetto terribly and runs away.  In an effort to catch him, Geppetto lands in jail.  Pinocchio returns home only to kill the talking cricket for being the first to give him this reoccurring advice:

“Woe to any little boy who rebels against his parents and turns his back on his father’s house!  He will come to no good in this world, and sooner or later he’ll be filled with bitter regret.”

Pinocchio lives a life of instant gratification.  He is unable to do anything other than fulfill his immediate desire.  His scrapes are the result of constantly looking for the easy way out, the easy money, or quick fix.  He runs into characters who see him for what he is, a dupe, and falls victim to their temptations.  Pinocchio feels regret for his actions, and begs the mercy of Geppetto and the Blue Haired Fairy, but he doesn’t learn from his mistakes until the very end.  This Pinocchio is more selfish and thoughtless than the cuddly character in the movie, but in the end I liked him better for making me feel squeamish and irritated.

Blue Haired Fairy

The Blue Haired Fairy plays a much larger role in the book.  First, she is far creepier than the pin-up fairy in the movie.  I imagine her as the walking dead when she first appears in the book.  She plays an important mother-role that is eliminated in the movie (what a surprise, a Disney movie where the mother is absent).  Her actions, she’s alive, she’s dead, she’s young, she’s old, underscore the fact that both she and Pinocchio are really a form of monster.

She does stand by Pinocchio far beyond what he’s earned, for some reason she has faith in him and ultimately she’s correct.  She explains to Pinocchio “with good-hearted children, even if they’re a bit naughty and have some bad habits, there’s always some hope–hope that they’ll mend their ways, I mean.”

 Tuscan Rural Life

The book paints a pretty tough life in mid-nineteenth century Tuscany.  Finding enough to eat was difficult and poverty common.  Geppetto doesn’t have food in his home, even his fireplace and the kettle steaming above it are painted on the wall.  His coat is in tatters and he must sell it and suffer cold so that Pinocchio can attend school.  Pinocchio is often hungry.  When  a farmer catches Pinocchio stealing grapes, Pinocchio’s excuse is hunger, which doesn’t convince the farmer at all:  “Hunger, my boy, is not a good reason for taking things that don’t belong to us.”

While Pinocchio’s hunger and thirst drive him to misdeeds, they aren’t enough motivation to work.  Only the unable are excused from work, “all the rest have an obligation to work–and if they choose not to and go hungry, then too bad for them.”  When Pinocchio begs for money for food, he’s offered work that he believes he is too good for, and he’s told “if you’re really dying of hunger, eat two big slices of your pride, and take care not to get indigestion.”

Afterword

Written by Rebecca West, this essay talks about the impact this tale has had on Western culture.  It never occurred to me that the movies with robots morphing into humans have their roots in Pinocchio.  She provides an interesting analysis of the book, of essays written about the book, and about the Disney movie. It’s a  fascinating read on it’s own.

NYRB Classics

NYRB Classics’ goal is to publish “discoveries,” books read outside the classroom that change the reader’s life.  Many of their books are translated “simply because so much great literature has been left untranslated into English, or translated poorly, or deserves to be translated again, much as any outstanding book asks to be read again.”

Their books are “branded” by a full picture on the front cover with a floating box in the center containing the title, author and credits.  Now that I’ve held Pinocchio and looked at it’s cover numerous times, I’ll recognize the publisher immediately.

This telling of the Pinocchio tale feels fresh and timeless.  I’m interested in learning about NYRB Classics’ other offerings.